Song of A Northern Sorcerer

He could make out Lord Stark near the front, but the man in the lead made Nox nearly scoff. His first impression of the King of Westeros's presence was not encouraging. 'This…This is King Robert? The man is rage, pride, and lust that is barely able to be contained. He's nothing more than a berserker. A blunt instrument you point at your enemies and then stand aside and let him kill them and himself to save yourself the trouble of having to do it later… And he's drunk. Wonderful.' Just as he was about to dismiss the party for the moment, he sensed it and refocused his attention back in on the group. One of the men was a balding redhaired man that was a few paces behind the King, and he was Force sensitive. Not only that, but he'd had formal training. Admittedly, rather poor formal training, but nonetheless it was training.

Once they were close enough, King Robert took his time staring at Nox before giving a passing glance towards the five kneeling men. "For fuck's sake, Lorch, get some gods damned pants on. No one wants to see that pathetic excuse for a cock you have."

"Yes, your grace," the newly named Lorch mumbled, scrambling to his feet and back away with the others in search of clothes.

"Don't go too far," Nox called out, making the five men hesitate. "We are not finished yet."

"Not finished yet?" King Robert mimicked him, taking a step towards him. "And who exactly are you? And what isn't finished yet?"

"Your grace," Lord Stark stated, stepping forward beside Robert. "This is Master Alim Nox. A foreign wanderer from beyond Essos who entered my service after aiding House Stark by saving the life of my bastard son over a month ago."

"Alim Nox?" King Robert questioned, looking back and forth between Lord Stark and Nox. "What a strange fucking name. But a friend of Ned's is a friend of mine. But regardless of that, foreigner, you stand before a King. Remove your helm and show me your face. Unless you're as ugly as the Hound here, then keep it on."

Deciding that it simply wasn't worth the effort to argue, Nox lowered his hood and removed his mask from his face. The instant his face was revealed, harsh whispers broke out amongst the crowd as anger and confusion spiked throughout the crowd. The most prominent of sensations belong to the King of Westeros, whose anger and rage almost threatened to boil over. And for once, it wasn't because of the black cloth that he had wrapped around his eyes. "Silver hair…Ned, what the fuck is the meaning of this?!"

"He may have the look of a Valyrian, your grace, but I guarantee you that he is not a dragon." Lord Stark responded immediately. "And he is no supporter of the dragons either. Do you truly think I would allow him to stay in my hall if he was after what happened?"

The King looked pensive for a moment before shaking his head, "No. You know better than to treat with those sister-fucking dragons."

Nox could feel…something come from a young man that was standing beside the King. Something almost like, amusement mixed with hatred. It was a strange combination and one that he couldn't fully decipher.

"Aye, that I do," Ned said simply, but again Nox could pick up on something coming from the Lord of Winterfell. Something almost like…shame. Stark had become increasingly skilled in hiding his emotions from him ever since he'd stopped holding back his Force potential, but every now and then Nox could still pick up on the overwhelming feeling of shame. Usually when he was staring at young Jon. 'You have your secrets, Lord Stark. But no secret is safe from me.'

"So, tell me," Robert cut back to him. "Why the fuck are you wearing that shit around your eyes? You blind or something?"

Smirking, Nox reached up and untied the cloth, revealing his scars and unseeing eyes. "Yes, I am."

One of Roberts eyebrows rose before he let out a loud laugh. "Ha! Fucking blind and he still handed five of your men their asses, Tywin!"

"Perhaps, your grace," an older man that was bursting with pride stated, stepping forth. "We should focus on just why this man felt it prudent to attack my men."

'Ah, this would be Tywin Lannister.' Of all the Lords in Westeros, the old Lion was the one he'd wanted to meet the most. Mostly because he wanted to see the man that he considered to be more Sith than anyone else. 'Interesting. While he is mildly aggravated at someone assaulting his men, he seems more aggravated with the fact that his men not only let it happen, but that they were caught in while doing something unbecoming as well.'

"What?" Robert questioned, clearly confused for a moment before remembering what it was that'd brought him here. "Oh, right. Well? What do you have to say for yourself, foreigner?"

Looking over his shoulder, Nox motioned for the two women to come out. Muttering broke out as the mother and daughter, still dropped in red cloaks, cautiously stepped out of the house. Their eyes were fixed firmly on the ground as the mother kept a firm hold on her daughter.

"Simple," Nox replied. "I was stopping crime from being committed. Unless I am mistaken, rape is still a crime, is it not?"

"It is," a voice sounded immediately, sounding much like the king's only, stricter and more rigid. "As is striking a Lord of Westeros. The penalty for which is ten lashings to the back."

'This must be the King's brother. Their auras are familiar enough. However, where the king is relaxed, this man…Hell, he could make a Jedi seem lenient.' "The day that I take lashings for stopping a rapist, regardless of his station, is the day that you can kiss your own ass."

He could sense the King's brother tense, but the King just laughed again, as did several of the men around them. "Fucking hells, Ned. I like this man! No wonder you brought him into your home. And Stannis, fucking shut it. This man has the right of it."

The newly named Stannis remained stoic, even though Nox could sense the brewing storm beneath the surface. 'If there was ever a man who needed to get laid, it's him. Although, judging by his brother's character, he probably spends most of his time running around trying to clean up his brother's mess.'

"Regardless," Stannis growled. "If he is to cite the law as precedence for his actions, then he too must abide by it."

"Lord Stannis is correct in this matter, your grace," Lord Tywin cut in, although Nox could detect the slight note of distaste in his voice at having to address the King with such deference. "My men committed a heinous act and should be reprimanded, but this man committed a similar act by striking a Lord when he holds no title. At least not one that is recognized by the Crown."

Nox nearly laughed at the somewhat obvious ploy in Tywin's scheme. He didn't give two shits that his men were raping a mother and her daughter. He could sense that much. But Tywin was obviously interested in him and wanted to see what he would do once backed into a corner. 'Well, if he wants a show, then I'll be glad to give it to him. Besides, it'll be a good way to work off some pent-up energy thanks to that excruciating boat ride. Honestly, I think I need to put in proper propellent systems for ships onto my list of things to help Westeros 'invent'.'

"It seems that we are at an impasse then, your grace," Nox shrugged as the King looked back and forth between Lord Tywin and himself. "So, I propose a solution. Two parties have committed a wrong, although neither side will admit to such. So, let us solve this amongst ourselves: a Trial by Combat. Myself against those five."

He could see Lord Stark sag in defeat, while Lord Tywin's curiosity began spiked once more. And the King, the King almost looked…giddy. "A Trial by Combat, eh?" Robert asked before chuckling. "I got to admit, you have balls, blindman. You do know that per Westeros Law, a Trial by Combat has only one outcome. Death. Are you really willing to take on those odds for those two?"

Turning his head so that it seemed he was looking behind him, Nox watched as the mother and daughter, both still trembling and fear after the ordeal they suffered, looked on with a sudden hope. "Yes, I am," Nox replied simply, turning back to the King.

Robert's grin was nearly wide enough to split his face in two. "Ha! I love that fucking confidence blindman. Tywin, get those fuckers over here! They have a Trial to participate in!"

Tywin gave a curt nodded and left to go retrieve his men while the other Lords and soldiers backed away to create a ring around Nox. All save for Lord Stark. Instead of backing away with the rest, the Warden of the North approached Nox, his anger barely held in check.

"Nox," Stark hissed lowly so that only the two of them could hear. "I thought I told you not to make any trouble!"

Shrugging, Nox rolled his shoulders and twisted to loosen the muscles in his back. "And I told you, Lord Stark, that trouble usually has a way of finding me."

Lord Stark's frustration mounted as he turned and cast a glance towards the King. "I haven't told Robert or the other Lords about your…abilities yet."

"Good," Nox smirked slightly more broadly when he felt Ned's confusion spike momentarily. "Then they won't be ready for it then."

Groaning, Stark pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Nox, why are you doing this, truly? Is this someway of making your mark on Westeros and the other Lords? To show off what you can do? Tell me now or I will end this farce here and now."

Dropping his good mood, Nox met the stern look of the Warden of the North with one of his own. "I told you before we left Winterfell, Lord Stark, that I can tolerate a lot. But there is one thing I cannot tolerate. And that is rape of any form. I warned you of what I would do should I discover anyone committing such a vile act. Did you think that my words were in jest?"

Scanning the crowd, he could feel the resignation set in within Stark. "Just…don't do anything too…"

"Flashy?" Nox asked, regaining some of his good humor, especially at the prospect of killing rapists. One of his favorite pastimes. "Don't worry Lord Stark. I could end these five with both arms tied behind my back and my legs bound together. I won't need to do anything fanciful to end this."

"Good," Stark nodded as he turned to depart, only to stop after taking a single step. "And between us. I approve of what you're doing. That man, Lorch…He has had this coming for a long time. But I was powerless to see it happen. So, while I chastise you for doing this, in the same breath I thank you for those who can no longer speak."

There was no need for Stark to elaborate further, Nox knew exactly what he was talking about. The death of Elia Martel and her two children at the end of the Rebellion at the hands of Lorch and another named Gregor Clegane. Once Lord Stark was safely out of the circle of men, Nox stepped into the center and waited as Lord Lannister reappeared with his five men in tow. 'Well then…let the fun begin.'

Making his way out of the makeshift ring that'd been formed just outside of Lordsport, Ned took his place beside Robert just as Lord Tywin returned with Ser Lorch and the other five men. Part of Ned, a part that he fought to keep buried, was a little jealous at what was about to happen. Nox was about to dispense a long overdue justice. A justice Ned had wanted to have a hand in for years.

"Well, Ned, sorry that you're going to be losing a man sworn to yourself so soon." Robert sighed as he took a swig from an ale horn. 'When did he get that? He'd downed two before coming out here. And now he has a third?'

"Lord Stark won't be losing anyone, your grace." Looking to his side, Ned spotted the man who'd just spoke. Like the king, he too held a horn of ale, but that was where the similarities ended. The man was tall like Robert, but he was mostly bald and had a rough red beard that was dripping with wine. But what was more interesting was the fact that none of the Kingsguard were preventing his approach. A new drinking friend more than likely.

"Ah, Thoros, your red god tell you that Nox is going to win in some fire vision, or whatever shit you believe in?"

"No," Thoros shrugged, taking a long drink. "I can…sense it. There is something about him. Something that I haven't felt in a long, long time. He will win. In fact, I'll put twenty dragons on him."

"Ha! You're on!" Robert laughed, clapping the man on the back. "In fact, I'll even through in a bottle of Arbor Gold as well."

'This isn't a fucking game,Robert,' Ned wanted to curse his friend, but he held his tongue. It wouldn't matter what he said. His friend would do as he pleased. Always had and always would.

After Lorch and the other five Lannister men arrived in the center of the ring, Lord Lannister left the men and made his way to stand near the King. 'They managed to get ready fast,' Ned thought, observing the six men, all of whom had donned boiled leather armor save for Ser Lorch who was dressed in full plate steel. 'Not that any of it will matter much. If Nox draws his lightsaber, this battle will be over before it can begin.'

"Well, let's get started." Robert announced loudly, taking a step into the ring. "I, King Robert first of his name do hereby proclaim this Trial by Combat for the crimes of rape and assaulting a Lord of the Westeros and – ah fuck it. You all know the rest. Get going before I piss myself already!"

Upon the King's command, Nox reaffixed his mask while the five Westerland men all drew their swords. Nox had to give the men credit, they were not idle during their brief departure. All five were fully dressed once again. Four of the men were wearing what looked like boiled leather with bits of steel woven in to reinforce vital points on their body and each were wearing a steel helm. Lorch on the other hand, was fully dressed in plate steel armor and was wearing a helm that was looked to have been fashioned after some sort of creature that looked to be a cross between a lion and a bat.

But before anyone could move, Nox held up his hand. "If you permit it, your grace, I wish to ask two things."

The King grumbled, displeased that they hadn't started killing each other yet, but nodded his consent.

"Thank you," Nox nodded, making to face the Lord of the Westerland. "Firstly, Lord Lannister, I apologize for the loss of your men. But I will not suffer rapist to walk free, no matter their status or the colors they wear. And the second, is to ask if you men have any last words you wish to speak. Or if any of you wish to take the Black, this is your last opportunity to do so." The five Westerland men seemed taken aback for a moment. But then Ser Lorch began to laugh, a full gut laugh that prompted the other men to start laughing as well.

"Last words!? Take the Black?" Ser Lorch laughed. "That's fucking rich coming for you, blindman! The Trial hasn't even started yet! And you're outnumbered five to fucking one! And you don't even have a fucking weapon on you! But if you want last words then how about this? Once I kill you, I'm taking your fucking helm and hanging it on my wall!"

Rolling his neck, Nox let his anger run through him as the dark side of the Force permeated his being. "I am afraid you are mistaken." Nox growled, the dark side tainting his voice even more than his helm did, while around him the men nearest to him began to shiver slightly as they felt the residual effects of the dark side. "This is no trial. This is your execution."

"Like fuck it is!" the man closest to Nox screamed before he raised his sword and charged at him, looking to cleave him in half with an overhead swing.

At the last moment, Nox stepped almost casually to the side, letting the sword fall past him. Using the Force to augment his speed, Nox moved faster than most could follow. Before the man could recover from his wild swing, Nox kicked out with his right foot onto the side of the fool's knee. The tendons and ligaments snapped beneath the force of the blow and made the man scream in agony as his knee gave way and brining him to the ground. Then, before the man could scream a second time, Nox reached out with both hands and took a firm hold of his chin in one hand and the back of his head in the other. Then, with a quick jerk, he snapped the man's neck with enough force to actually turn his head around backwards.

"That's one," Nox drawled, letting go of the man as he fell to the ground, dead.

The four remaining Westerland men had gone stiff as a board, as did most of the assembled crowed, as they all stared at the corpse at Nox's feet. Nox could feel the fear emanating from the four men remaining, as well as the awe, fear, and curiosity that was pouring out from the crowd.

"Well?" Nox asked, beckoning the remaining men forward with his right hand. "Are we going to fight? Or you lot just going to lay down and die?"

His words snapped the remaining four men out of their stupor as they all started approaching him far more cautiously than the last fool. Stepping forward, Nox remained completely passive as the four men separated and slowly began surrounding him. Once he was surrounded, Nox turned in a slow circle so that he could face each man one by one.

"What are you all waiting for? An engraved invitation?" he asked mockingly, holding out his arms to the side.

The man to his back struck first, no doubt hoping to catch him by surprise, his blade aiming for his neck. But instead, all it found was air as Nox calmly ducked under the swing and back peddled. Once behind the man, he grabbed him by the back of his armor near his neck and physically moved him to his right. And put him right in the path of Ser Lorch's blade, which pierced through the man's leather armor and sunk into his heart. Kicking sideways, Nox put his foot into the back of the dying man and forced him into Lorch, putting both to the ground.

Twisting his body sideways, Nox evaded the thrust from another Westerland man. Spinning in a tight circle, Nox lashed out with his hand, his fingers curled slightly which allowed him to extend the claws on his gauntlets. The claws dug into the soft flesh of the man's throat up to Nox's third knuckle. Curling his fingers, Nox ripped his hand out, taking the man's larynx with him. Still holding onto the bloody piece, Nox calmly sidestepped as the man fell forward, clutching at his ruined throat. As the man fell, he reached out and ripped the cloak off the man's back. "Two and three."

Dropping the larynx, Nox started calmly wiping the blood off his right hand as he faced the last remaining foot solider. The man was positively shaking where he stood. And the wet spot in the man's pants gave testament to just how scared he was. Not the mention the smell that was emanating off him indicating he'd soiled himself in both manners. 'Unbelievable.' "Well," Nox sighed, checking his hand over. "We going to fight or what?"

The man stood stock still for a long moment before he made a move. And that move was to turn tail and run as fast as he could away from Nox. Shaking his head, Nox slipped his foot underneath one of the fallen men's swords and kicked it up into the air. With a single motion, Nox turned, caught the sword by the hilt and then sent it end over end, chasing after the fleeing man as the surrounding ring parted around him. The man let out a single gurgled scream as he clutched at his ruined throat when the blade buried itself into the back of his neck and exited the front.

Turning his back on the dying man, Nox faced off against Lorch, who'd only just now managed to regain his footing and was holding his sword in a middle guard across his body. "And that's four. Now, it is finally one-on-one, Ser Armory Lorch."

He could practically smell the terror that was coming off the man. His legs were quivering, and the tip of his sword was wavering ever so slightly as he stood before him. Lorch's beady eyes flickered from one corpse to the other before coming to a rest on Nox. "You think I'm scared of you, fucker?! You think the fact that you killed these men makes you better than me! You're not!"

Shaking his head, Nox folded his hands behind his back, completely at ease even though he and this man were in a fight to the death. "Bravado. Pure bravado. You can shout all you want, but you and I know the truth. You're scared shitless. So much so, that you can barely even keep your blade steady."

Growling, Lorch reaffixed his grip on his sword, some of his shaking leaving him. "Believe what you want! But I've killed men far greater than you!"

"No, you haven't," Nox nearly laughed. "But I will forgive your lack of understanding. You see, you were raised with a very narrow-minded view of power. You think that your name gives you power. Or perhaps it is your muscles, or your high-quality armor, or you castle-forged sword, or even your skill with said sword. Or perhaps you believe that gold holds true power. While many believe these things define power, they are not my definition of power."

Turning his body slightly with his right foot forward, he regarded his opponent. "Come, I will educate you on my definition of power."

He didn't have to wait long. His words had riled Lorch up to the point where most rational thought had left his mind, not that there was much there to begin with. Bellowing out a vicious cry, Lorch charged Nox with his sword held high, ready to cut Nox in two. Despite his cry and charge, Nox didn't move. When less than five paces separated the two, Lorch's eyes narrowed as Nox held his ground, his hands still behind his back. With less than two paces between them, Lorch brought his sword down in a vicious arc. Yet still, Nox kept his hands behind his back. Only when the blade was within arm's length did Nox move. His left hand snapping out from around his back and reaching out.

Lorch's eyes widened as his movements were brought to an abrupt stop. Around the ring, every man and the few women present looked on with wide eyes at the impossible feat they were watching. Nox, still standing calmly, had his left hand outstretched. And in his hand, pinched between his fingers and thumb, was the edge of Lorch's sword.

"Pathetic." Nox growled, wrenching the blade to the side before backhanding Lorch across the chest with his right hand with enough force to throw the armored man onto his back ten feet away from Nox.

"Do you see know?" Nox asked as Lorch stared up at him from his spot on the ground, a hand sized dent in the chest of his armor from where Nox struck him. "The difference between us stems from our definitions of power. And you can never even dream of reaching my level. This fight is over. So, do us both a favor and fall on your sword already. I really don't feel like expending the energy it would take to end your life. It's like asking the King to throw out a shit bucket."

Shaking his head, Lorch rolled back onto his feet, his sword held firmly before him. "Fuck you, you foreign bastard! I'm not fucking dead yet! I'm going to fucking gut you just like I did that little dragon whore!"

Sighing, Nox shook his head. "Well, so much for mercy." He muttered, letting the dark side fill him.

Letting out another war cry, Lorch charged again, this time his sword held level with the ground, aimed right for Nox's chest. When he'd managed to cross half the distance Nox raised his hand and reached out with the Force, grabbing and holding Lorch frozen mid-step. Dozens of voices most of them being southern called out in surprise at Nox's almost casual display of magic. The air around them became saturated in emotion as some men even dropped to their knees and began muttering prays asking for safety. Even the king seemed surprised, his eyes widened, and his jaw lowered. Only three men maintained their calm. Lord Stark, Lord Stannis Baratheon and Lord Lannister.

"As I said," Nox remarked, taking a step forward, his hand still outstretched as he ignored the mutterings going on around him. "The difference between us is one that you could never hope to cross. I had planned on granting you a quick death, but not anymore. No. I think you're going to have to suffer a bit first before I allow you to die."

Stepping up so the two were almost face to face, Nox held up his open hand and slowly began to close his fist. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. But then Lorch's eyes twitched and he grunted. His armor on his body began to dent as Nox applied more and more pressure onto the would-be knight. Lorch held on for a time, but soon enough he couldn't hide what was happening as his own armor began crushing him. A loud snap was echoed with Lorch's cry of agony as the man collapsed when the bones in his legs all broke nearly simultaneously.

"Lord…Tywin!" Lorch cried, spitting blood from his mouth as he desperately searched for his liege Lord as his armor constricted around him, crushing him to death. "Help…me!"

Despite the cry, the Lord of the Westerlands merely watched on as his man was slowly crushed to death before his eyes by a seemingly invisible force being controlled by Nox. But unlike most, who were staring at Nox in horror, Tywin seemed, contemplative. "The gods have spoken, Ser Lorch." Lord Lannister called out over the cries of his bannerman. "And you have been found guilty. May you find peace with the gods."

Betrayal. Fear. Anguish. All passed through Lorch as he stared at his liege Lord while his armor crushed him. "Lord Tywin!" Lorch screamed as his ribs began grinding against one another before breaking. "Mercy!"

"Enough!" A loud clear voice cut through the cries of Lorch, making everyone turn towards its source.

Lord Stark was standing just before the king, a look of anger on his face as he stared down Lorch and then up towards Nox. "The gods have decreed, Nox. The trial is over. End it."

'Soft hearted,' Nox sighed. 'He hasn't yet come to realize that sometimes a statement needs to be made' "As you wish, Lord Stark," Nox nodded, releasing Lorch.

What was left of the knight collapsed to the ground, blood running freely down his mouth as he moaned in agony. Reaching into the folds of his robe, Nox pulled out his lightsaber. A snap-hiss sounded through the ring as all the gathered southern men save for Lord Stark and Lannister involuntarily took a step back in response to the sudden appearance of Nox's lightsaber. Stepping forward, Nox made two quick slashes. The first separated Lorch's hands from his arms. And the second separated his head from his neck.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Nox used the Force to pick up the severed hands, followed by the summoning of a cloak to wrap the hands in. Once they were secured, he walked purposefully over to Lord Stark. Once he was standing before the Warden of the North, he held out the cloak covered hands. "We'll need to eventually establish trade dealings with Dorne to make some of our projects come to fruition. Try offering them the hands of the man that brutally murdered Rhaenys Targaryen."

Stark looked less than pleased, but the logical side of his mind eventually won out and he nodded, taking the hands from Nox.

Turning his back on the Warden of the North, Nox made his way back to the center of the ring. Once he was standing over the dead bodies of Lorch and his men, he raised his voice and addressed the assembled crowd. "My name is Alim Nox. I am a Lord of the Sith and current resident and servant of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North. And as you can all clearly see, I am a sorcerer of no small talent. There is much that I can and will tolerate, but rape will never be among them. So, keep what you've seen here today in the forefront of your minds. Because if your dicks jump out of your pants and into an unwilling participant, then you had best pray to whatever gods you follow that you reach the safety of Castle Black before I reach you. Because I can assure you all, that I will not be this merciful again."

His piece said, Nox purposefully turned his back on the corpses and made his way towards where he knew the Northerners were planning on setting up their camp.